


Postdiluvian (a 221B)

by SweetLateJuliet



Series: Edgeways [50]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: 221B Ficlet, Love Letters, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-28
Updated: 2013-11-28
Packaged: 2018-01-02 20:58:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1061559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetLateJuliet/pseuds/SweetLateJuliet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Out of tragedy, triumph.</p><p>Nah. But out of water, words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Postdiluvian (a 221B)

We stood at the counter and surveyed the square foot of wreckage.

“She’s done for, gentlemen.” The pretty geek looked entirely unconcerned about my gutted laptop.

I made a mental note to scrutinise my bedside manner. Surely I was not so unfeeling with my patients.

“Your motherboard’s corroded. That’d be enough, but your tea was, like, super democratic. Graphics card, keyboard, processor – everything took a bath.”

I felt sick. It wasn’t primarily the profligate waste, a 700-quid cup of Assam. It was the _words_ I would never get back.

I’d penned a witty limerick for my Vanishing Dowager write-up, but I couldn’t recall it.

Six nearly complete case files for Lestrade; I’d have to start entirely over.

And I’d been composing a letter to Sherlock. Nothing brilliant, just a running commentary on the ways he amazed me, brought me low with desire. I remembered snippets, but it had been seven pages at least.

All washed away by four fluid ounces.

 

Why do lost words feel so much truer than any reconstruction?

 

“Want your rice?” The tech gestured at the forlorn container of dessicant in which I’d brought the computer. I sighed.

“Yes,” said Sherlock.

“What? Why?”

“I will consume every grain that failed you, John.” His eyes shone with indignation.

 

I’ve started a brand new love letter. It begins with basmati.

**Author's Note:**

> _This Thanksgiving, I'm thankful for automatic online backup. My laptop's toast but my words are recoverable._


End file.
